Mirrored Truths and Wild Hopes
by alstair
Summary: "They should have known that the mission would not be as simple as they were first led to believe. They never were when they involved James T. Kirk, captain of the USS Enterprise and a man known as much for his unfailing bravery as he was for his ability to get into trouble. " Jim's latest mission brings him to death's door and forces him to face his past. Jim/McCoy, Jim/Spock.
1. Chapter 1: There are no Simple Missions

**Chapter 1: There are no simple missions**

They should have known that the mission would not be as simple as they were first led to believe. They never were when they involved James T. Kirk, captain of the USS Enterprise and a man known as much for his unfailing bravery as he was for his ability to get into trouble.

The starship was currently maintaining orbit around the planet Junna. At 08:00 hours two days ago they had received a call from Command requesting they pick up a certain foreign dignitary from the planet and escort them to Starfleet Headquarters on Earth. Being the closest ship in the vicinity, they were therefore the best candidate. That the dignitary was classified as a "Priority One" requiring the Federation's highest levels of protection made their selection even more natural.

But what was supposed to have been a straightforward mission was already off to a spectacularly bad start.

"Enterprise...Do you copy...Package is secure but we are under heavy gunfire. Requesting immediate evac. Captain is down. I repeat. Captain is down." Sulu's voice crackled on the comm.

**_At 08:00 hours two days ago_**

"Captain, message from Starfleet Command on line one, sir."

Kirk smiled at the ensign manning the comm. "Patch them through."

It was only a second before Admiral Pike's face filled the screen. It had been some time since Kirk had seen the Admiral but the man seemed no worse for the wear with his new responsibilities.

"Good to see you are taking care of my ship, Captain."

"Got to. Who knows what grumpy old men will do when their ship gets pulled in for a second time after she just got patched up." Kirk smirked before he resumed formally. "What can I do for you, Admiral?"

Pike shared a brief smile before similarly plunging to the business at hand. "At 22:00 hours last night we received a request from one of the dignitaries currently residing in Junna for an escort to Starfleet Command. Given the urgency of the request and the importance of this dignitary, we feel that the Enterprise is best suited to this task. You are nearby, are you not, Captain?"

Kirk nodded in the affirmative. "We should arrive at Junna in a little under two days with warp at full speed."

"Good. Sending across the details of your charge. Take care of her Kirk. She's a Priority One."

"Will do Admiral."

_**At present**_

"Get outta my way!" McCoy made his way to the pad just as Sulu materialized half carrying, half dragging a torn and bloodied Kirk.

Not that Sulu or the rest of the away team was in any great shape either. A large gash ran down the side of Cupcake. Spock sustained various cuts and bruises as well as what appeared to be a broken arm. Sulu himself had a noticeable limp. The three others sported a variety of cuts, bruises, and broken limbs.

The last transporter pad however carried a hooded figure that, despite the thick fur cloak worn, was clearly a young woman and the object of the mission at hand. She appeared to be unharmed but unless they did a full medical examination they could not be sure.

Tricorder at the ready and Nurse Chapel and the rest of the medical team on his right, McCoy quickly transferred Kirk into a gurney whilst performing an assessment of the man's condition. And what he was quickly finding was not a pretty picture. Three broken ribs. Internal bleeding around the kidneys and liver. Two gunshot wounds, one at the left shoulder, the other lower down and only a little short of the heart. The bullets themselves were still lodged in the flesh and that was a concern. From the caliber of weapons used, if they did not get the bullets out fast, they would quickly disintegrate and cause even more internal damage then they already had. Kirk had likewise sustained significant blood loss and that in and of itself was a major concern.

Kirk had had too many close brushes with death. And every time Kirk was rushed into the medical bay with one or the other emergency, McCoy's heart sank and an icy fear gripped him. It was the same fear that kept him awake at night. The same fear that compelled him to walk the corridor outside the Captain's quarters hoping against hope that this time, nothing would happen to his Captain.

He feared above all that one day he may not be able to save Kirk. He was afraid that one day Kirk might actually die. And McCoy knew, if that day did come, he would not be able to handle it.

Not more than ten feet away, Spock was thinking the exact same thing in his own logical, Vulcan, way. He recalled the Kobayashi Maru test from their days in the Academy. Despite Kirk's seeming ability to cheat death time and time again Spock knew that, in the end, death would always win. You might escape now but there will come a time when one cannot run away any further. And to court this disaster by continuously exposing oneself to danger and rushing headlong was illogical and completely destructive. So it was only logical that he would do everything to prevent the Captain from exposing himself to such danger - right?

_**Four hours ago**_

"Captain, it would be wiser for you to remain on board while we collect the dignitary."

Kirk looked at the Vulcan as though he had grown two heads. "You do realize Spock that this is just an ordinary mission. Nothing that would endanger my life. Besides, it's only good manners for the Captain of the ship to personally greet such an important guest."

Spock knew that logically there was no reason indeed for Kirk to refrain from going down. From his reading of the dignitary's dossier and his survey of the local political situation there appeared to be no logical reason to expect a life threatening occurrence to happen. Even if this woman was marked "Priority One" there appeared to be nothing in her file to suggest why or for them to expect anything other than a peaceful handover.

So why did Spock not want Jim Kirk down there? He wasn't quite sure himself...only that it was also only rational to prevent any potential, no matter that it might only be 0.001% that something bad might happen.

But from the determined look in Kirk's eyes, Spock knew there was no arguing it. So instead he changed his line of attack. "If you are absolutely certain you wish to join the landing party then I propose that I join you."

"And I suppose you won't change your mind either, will you, Spock?"

"Indeed."

Kirk smiled and clapped Spock on the back. "Well then. Welcome aboard."

_**At present**_

The surgery room was stifling but the doctors and nurses milling around the table underneath the bright white lights didn't mind it. Their entire concentration was on the man they were trying to save and the various instruments they had hooked up to him to monitor his vitals. At the center of it stood McCoy in his blue doctor's scrubs, arms elbow deep in blood as he fought to keep Kirk alive. At the moment though, he felt like he was facing a losing battle.

"Blood pressure is dropping. We're losing him Doctor"

McCoy swore. "Dammit. Another round of blood replenishers, stat. No, make em a double." Grabbing a clamp from one of the nurses he proceeded to stem the flow of blood from yet another bleeder. This was the fifth since they started to operate. If he has another McCoy was afraid Kirk's body might go into shock.

Outside, the rest of the team waited. Sulu eyed the door to surgery with growing worry. While he did not know the full extent of the Captain's injuries, he knew that it was pretty bad. He recalled how earlier as he held the Captain up he could almost feel the life flowing out of him. There had been so much blood, so much pain.

Spock could only watch from his own bed at the medical bay the steady stream of nurses carrying blood replacement bags into the surgery room. This was the eighth such occurrence and assuming the surgery room itself carried the standard two bags, that would make a total of ten transfusions. That did not bode well.

For the tenth time since they landed in Junna, Spock replayed the events over again in his head. What had they not seen that could have warned them about the ambush that awaited them?

_**Four hours ago**_

There was little fanfare when the team arrived in Junna. Just a single representative from the ruling command was there to greet them.

"Welcome, Starfleet officers. I am Theodore M'Th'Kli. I am the Chancellor of the High Command and your guide. We had not quite expected you so soon or that Starfleet would send its prized ship. You are Captain James T. Kirk, yes?"

Their guide's three beady eyes fixed on Kirk. Kirk nodded. "Are you aware, Chancellor, of the reason for our visit?"

Chancellor M'Th'Kli did not immediately respond. When he did, he stopped in his tracks and faced the team. And when he spoke he addressed not the Captain but Spock. "We are aware of this individual you seek."

"Come officers. I shall take you to her. She has been eagerly awaiting your arrival."

The Chancellor led them to a building located in the central square of their capitol. The building, towering twenty stories high, was made of marble and limestone. A silver plaque at its entrance proclaimed it to be the main government building. Spock remembered from his history lessons that the current inhabitants of Junna were not its original settlers and they had taken up many of the original structures that men and women they called "The First" had built for their own. This was one such structure.

Little was known of The First other than they were a race that enjoyed beauty, if the structures they left behind were any indication. The other was that they had died out, more than a quarter century before the current inhabitants of Junna arrived. The cause for the annihilation of that entire race was still unknown.

Right now, with the fires of its three suns blazing with the heat of noon, not a soul could be found in the entirety of the square other than their party. Their footsteps resounded eerily on the stone slabs. Ushering them quickly through the entrance, the Chancellor led them to a waiting room on the second floor.

"It is a pity you arrived at the height of noon. Rare it is that members from other races are able to withstand the heat our three suns deem to shine upon us at this hour. Please wait here. We have prepared refreshments. I will be back shortly with her."

The Chancellor pointed to a decanter and twelve glasses perched on a bureau before bowing out.

The room they were deposited into was well outfitted. It was decorated with plush chairs and couches, hardwood bureaus and coffee tables, and more flowers than they had yet seen on the otherwise arid planet. Its western wall was completely made of glass, affording the occupants a clear view into the square below. Kirk walked towards this window with the clear intention to take a closer look at the view outside.

In his seat by the window, Spock was uneasy. So far nothing was blatantly wrong but there were many little things that were not adding up and left him with a vague sense of dread. From a quick scan of the room, it appeared that only he had these thoughts. It was by mere happenstance that as he looked up at Kirk, trying to gauge whether the man had likewise observed the anomalies, that he saw a glint in one of the taller buildings outside. Then the tumblers in his head clicked.

"Sniper!"

Spock jumped from where he was seated and raced to Kirk. Unfortunately he wasn't fast enough. The glass shattered as a bullet wheezed past to lodge itself into Kirk's chest. The rest of team scrambled and laid out some covering fire from their phasers as Spock dragged Kirk away from immediate danger.

A cursory examination indicated that the bullet had thankfully not pierced Kirk's heart. But it was too close for comfort. The man needed immediate medical assistance. They needed to get him back to Enterprise as soon as possible.

"Enterprise, do you read me. This is Spock. Requesting immediate evac. Captain is down. I repeat Captain is down."

Spock waited for a response. Nothing. Only static. He decided to try once more over the secure line. "Enterprise, do you copy. We request emergency evac."

Just as before, only static met his Vulcan ears. They were interfering with the signal. Calling Sulu and the rest of the team, they made for the door. They had to get Kirk and themselves out of that death trap.

_**At present**_

A shrill monotonous beep resounded in the room.

"V-fib!" The nurse manning the heart rate monitor proclaimed. McCoy knew he had only a matter of seconds to prevent the heart from going to asystole. And damn if he would ever let Kirk flat line on his watch.

He grabbed the paddles from one of the assistant doctors. Holding his breath, he looked up at the monitor. Still v-fib.

"Charge em up to 150."

Again, McCoy pressed the paddles to Kirk's chest. No change. There was little time left. McCoy grabbed a scalpel and with deft movements, enlarged the hole on Kirk's chest. He looked at Kirk before plunging his right hand into the cavity to directly jolt his heart.

McCoy could taste his desperation in the mouth. "Goddamnit, Jim. Ya do not get to die on my watch, do ya hear me!"

* * *

**Author's notes:** My first Star Trek fan fiction. So do forgive if there is some OOC-ness and any contradictions with cannon. And if anyone is wondering, this story is set between the Star Trek and Into Darkness films. Otherwise, enjoy.


	2. Chapter 2: Each of their Struggles

**Chapter 2: Each of their struggles**

They knew the odds.

In their minds they could still picture Kirk being wheeled away to surgery. The deep pain etched in their Captain's features as he hovered at the edge of consciousness. The grim expressions on Spock and Sulu. The trail of blood staining the transporter pad, dripping down from their Captain's wounds. The words "Captain is down," like a broken record, repeating in an unending loop.

In the silence of their hearts they prayed. They prayed to any and all deities that existed in the vastness of space. They prayed that just as before Kirk would pull through and he would once more stand on the bridge with his brash and cocky grin, urging them onto their next mission, eyes blazing with possibility.

But he had lost too much blood. The bullet had been too close.

They knew the odds and they were not good.

_**Three hours ago**_

It was good fortune that they made it to the sewers. That Spock had remembered enough of the ancient architecture to find the sewage chutes was pure luck. It gave them a respite from the shooting and the blazing heat of the sun but little else. Their comm lines were still down. Sulu and Cupcake, each carrying one shoulder of Kirk, gently put the man down. They didn't have the necessary medical equipment to do anything more than to staunch the wound with strips of cloth taken from their attires.

"Spock..." Kirk managed to say through gritted teeth. "We need to...get back in...find the girl."

Spock shook his head. "We need to get you medical attention. We don't even know if they have her in this place."

Kirk made a grab for Spock's arm. His grip was hard, pulling the man closer so he could hear his pain-laced voice better. "I know she's there Spock. Trust me."

Spock could see the determination and the absolute faith in Kirk's eyes. He didn't understand why the man would be so sure when they had seen the same information about their charge, hadn't they?

"If, and I do mean if, we were to go back in there. How do you propose we search for her?"

Kirk smirked. It didn't come off as he would have wanted it what with the pain killing him from his chest and his face draining of color. Still the effect was there. Spock conceded that even in his dying breath the man would still be as cock sure of himself as any other day.

Kirk looked him straight in the eyes as though willing him to understand when he said,"Bait the predator."

Spock lifted his eyebrow. "And I presume you are referring to yourself as the bait."

Kirk's grin spread. "Yeah. You got it."

_**At present**_

Once. Twice. Thrice. McCoy jolted Kirk's heart. Each second that ticked by without any change meant Kirk was that much closer to death. But dammit he hadn't taken care of Kirk all these years just to let the man down now.

It changed on the fourth.

The dull but regular pulse that throbbed under McCoy's palm sent a tremor of relief flooding into his veins. On the monitor, the blip indicated that Jim's heartbeat, albeit still weak, had somehow stabilized. A heartbeat that if he had anything to do with he'd make sure would not stop anytime soon.

McCoy could feel the sweat making his blue scrubs stick to his back, trickling down his furrowed brows. With his ears closely monitoring the beeps made by the EKG he picked up the tweezers proferred by the nearest nurse and steadied himself.

"Recommencing bullet extraction." His voice sounded hoarse and cracked as he intoned into the mandatory surgery recording. In a stainless steel pan beside him lay part of the mangled remains of a bullet, shards of varying sizes from as large as a centimeter to as small as half a millimeter.

But there was still too much metal in Jim. McCoy tried not to think how long ago since he'd actually had to extract a bullet out of any man. With phasers having gone the way of the erstwhile guns, it had been an increasing rarity for actual bullets to wind up in the ER. But it seemed those bastards that shot Jim down preferred the good old methods of killing. McCoy tried to push back the rage and the fear that threatened to shake him. He could not afford to make a mistake. Jim could not afford him to make a mistake.

_**Two and a half hours ago**_

They made it back into the building but not without sustaining more injuries. Kirk was propped awkwardly against one of the banisters. Sulu limped towards the body of one of the now dead armed men patrolling that particular corridor. With one hand he fished out the communications device stashed in the dead man's jacket pocket. The other held his phaser aloft, setting firmly at kill. Around him, the others fanned out, eyes watchful.

Looking at it, the device appeared crude. Short wave. Nothing they could use to contact Starfleet with but from the looks of things sufficient to do the job they needed it to do first. He passed the device to Ensign Royce.

Kirk had reasoned that the Chancellor was their best shot at finding the dignitary, that he would still be there. Gritting his teeth, Ensign Royce barked into the device the few grunts that seemingly passed as the native language. The crackle that broke confirmed Kirk's suspicions.

It took them another ten minutes to find the right corridor. They found their beady-eyed guide barricaded in his office, apparently since the shooting had begun. Seeing them, a resigned look filled his features, his shoulders slumping down before he pressed himself back into his seat.

"I suppose you're here to kill me."

Kirk shook his head, gritting his teeth. Behind him, the previously white rug was quickly turning crimson. "No. You'll take us to her."

Eyeing the phasers levels against him, Chancellor M'Th'Kli knew he had no choice. "Very well. Follow me."

As he rose from his seat, Sulu gripped his arm and pressed his phaser into the Chancellor's chest. "If you lead us into another ambush, so help me, you'll wind up dead on the floor faster than you can breathe."

_**At present**_

The blinking red lights on the console was bad news. Chekov's voice rang out on the bridge. "Torpedo incoming!" The enemy war birds had somehow evaded their sensors. But he would not allow any one of the enemies' ordnance to touch the ship. He'd make sure to shoot every single one down. Beside him, the alternate helmsman prepared to execute evasive maneuvers.


	3. Chapter 3: Deadlocked

**Chapter 3: Deadlocked**

Spock felt the sharp shift in the ship's movement and knew instantly that they'd done an evasive maneuver. And that could only mean either of two things: they were in a debris field or they were facing enemy fire. Either which way, Spock knew that he couldn't stay in the medical bay a moment longer.

Before any of the nurses could react, Spock had pushed himself out of the biobed and was halfway to the lifts. It took exactly 34.35 seconds for him to reach the bridge. There he found Chekov barking orders.

"Diwert ze power from port nacelles to ze forvard shields."

A quick scan of the room indicated that all members of the bridge were reacting to the threat as they should be. That was good. That meant that even without both Captain and Commander the Enterprise was still as battle ready as ever.

"What happened, Chekov?"

The young navigator did not let his eyes leave the console as he replied. But then, he didn't have the luxury to. "Commander, zey came out from novhere. Our sensors did not pick zem up until zey started firing."

There were three ships. The largest of them was not even a third the size of the Enterprise. By all rights they should not have any difficulties in putting them down. However, perhaps in part due to their smaller size, they were far more agile. More worrisome than that, they appeared to not only be well equipped but the fighting capability of each ship was equivalent to a war bird at least twice their size.

So far they were matching their enemies torpedo for torpedo, photon blast for photon blast, neutralizing their ordnance but unable to put a decisive hit on any one of them. But Spock knew this stalemate wouldn't last. It did not make sense for an enemy to be content with a draw.

Then it hit them. At an angle that made it impossible from any of the existing war birds, they hit the ship at close range.

"Damage report."

One of the ensigns turned to face Spock. "Damage to the port nacelles Commander. No damage to the warp core but the plasma transfer conduits have been destroyed."

It didn't take a genius to know that until they were able to reconnect the warp nacelles with the warp core, they were not going anywhere. Whoever it was, clearly did not want them to escape.

_**Two hours ago**_

The Chancellor led them to a small secluded library on the first floor. Mercifully, they did not encounter any of the patrols. Clearly the Chancellor valued his life if nothing else, Sulu's threat to kill him should he bring them to an ambush weighing on the man.

Moving to the side of the room, the Chancellor pressed a knob on a bookshelf, revealing a passageway leading down. It took them the better part of fifteen minutes to reach the bottom, Kirk stopping every ten steps to catch his breath and still the tremors that were wracking his frame. He could feel the bullet lodged in his chest splintering with every movement and knew without needing a doctor's professional opinion that it was bad news.

The stairs opened up to a dimly lit room. It was sparsely furnished and the few pieces of furniture clearly indicated that the room was not meant to house anyone for any prolonged period of time. In one corner of the room they found a young woman dressed in thick robes sitting on a low stool, a hand clasped around a small black leather book. Her posture indicated she had likely been reading and had just closed it. At the noise that they made, she tilted her head to the side. It would take them all of one minute to realize that she was, in fact, blind.

Her voice, when it spoke, was soft and melodious. Nodding at the Chancellor, she addressed them. "Forgive the Chancellor. He has had no choice. They attacked early this morning."

Spock stepped closer. "Who are they? Why did they attack?"

She slowly shook her head. "Now is not the time or the place to discuss such matters."

Of course, she was right. They either needed to find and disable whatever device the enemy was using to jam their communications and get the Enterprise to beam them back or else go beyond the range of it. Spock and Sulu exchanged glances. They knew Kirk would not likely survive if they tried the latter. In the short span of time they were in the sewer system, they had estimated that the next exit, other than where they had come in from, was at least a mile away. As it was, Kirk was barely standing. And for a man who had a ridiculously high level of pain tolerance, the small quiet gasps he tried to control behind gritted teeth was saying a lot about the state he was in.

Turning to the Chancellor, they pressed him for answers. Surely, as the man was cooperating with the attackers he should have some knowledge of the enemy's formation. Sulu pressed his phaser harder on the Chancellor while Spock queried.

"Chancellor, where is the device being used to block our signals located?"

The Chancellor closed his three eyes and shrugged. "I do not know where they keep the device that is preventing you from returning to your ship. They do not tell me everything and why should they."

"You better not be lying, Mr. Chancellor," Sulu said.

Spock shook his head. "I can see no lie in his eyes Mr. Sulu."

_**At present**_

McCoy felt the ship shudder and rock as they got hit and he swore. "Goddammit! What the hell is happening out there. Can't they stop taking hits. This operation is delicate enough without them risking blowing us to bits!"

While Nurse Chapel did not approve of McCoy's language, could only agree. The scans indicated that the movement had shifted the remaining metal in Jim by a millimeter deeper. McCoy glanced at the scans as she did, his eyes centered on a particular wayward shard that had burrowed deeper at the movement. Now it rested delicately above a major artery leading to Jim's heart. If the bullet fragment went deeper by even a quarter of a millimeter Jim would rupture an artery and risk bleeding out on the table. It did not help that Jim was allergic to the only blood coagulant that was potent and fast acting enough to do any help.

Sweat beaded down McCoy's back and trickled treacherously down his temples. They had no way to predict when the Enterprise would sustain another hit. That meant they needed to extract the killer shard immediately even if that meant inflicting more damage to Jim's battered body.

**_One and a half hours ago_**

"I can't reach Kirk or anyone else on the away team."

Uhura swiveled on her chair to face Chekov. The team had been away too long without checking in. As far as mission parameters went a simple pickup should not be taking them this long. The situation somehow felt reminiscent of the events when they had fought the Narada. Acting on instinct, Chekov checked the Enterprise's transporter capabilities and promptly swore in Russian.

"Ze transporters are being blocked!"

And Chekov knew as well as anyone else there that that could not mean anything good.


	4. Chapter 4: Gambling on Percentages

**Chapter 4: Gambling on Percentages**

The silence that descended on the bridge at the knowledge that they had just lost their warp capability was palpable. Did they have no choice except to push their way out through brute force? And with the enemy seemingly able to evade detection, were there not others waiting in the wings, ready swoop down at the slightest sign of weakness like hungry predatory sharks?

Spock could calculate the probability of survival without warp capability. The longer they existed without it in a fight that dragged on, the greater their disadvantage. With his uninjured hand, he punched a line to Engineering.

Scotty's heavily accented voice breathlessly acknowledged Spock's greeting. "Commander, she cannae take another hit like that! It's bad enough that the plasma transfer conduits are gone but we'll be in worse trouble if you cannae stop them from blowing our warp core to bits!"

Spock had only one question for the Scotsman on the other side of the line. "Mr. Scott, can you or can you not restore our warp capability?"

"Do you know what you're asking of me, laddie? That's delicate work right there. Not something ya are supposed ta be doing on the fly! But knowing ya, ya'll still want me to do it." Scotty grunted over the line. In the background, Spock could hear his heavy footfalls thudding across the steel walkways that made up the engineering section. "It's like trying to connect a wooden bridge using super glue and then asking a tank to go over it!"

"If and, I mean if, this works ya get only one shot. Ya hear me! One shot! If ya miss it or for any reason the thing malfunctions while yer using it, I cannae temporarily reconnect it again with the stuff we got without risking blowing the warp core."

"What's the percentage probability that it will work, Mr. Scott?"

Scotty goes silent for a moment. "I dunno. Fifty-fifty maybe but I cannae be sure."

"A fifty percent probability will have to suffice. Do it. How long do you need to complete it?"

"Fifteen minutes at least. And we cannae get hit again. As it is, it'll be like handling a bomb in the midst of a boxing match. We'll all be done for if our core gets misaligned in the process."

"Then hurry Mr. Scott. I do not think we can hold longer than that."

_**At present, somewhere else on the Enterprise**_

Compared to the rest of the equipment in the room, the device in McCoy's hands was the equivalent of a prehistoric sledgehammer. But McCoy didn't have the time to look for a more sophisticated solution. He needed something that would achieve the results and fast. If any more of the bullet shards collapsed in Jim's system, the kid wouldn't be able to survive. And, despite the unwieldy nature of the instrument he was holding, it would be effective. Brutally so.

Why would it not be? Bullets were made of metal. And even a grade school student knew that a magnetic field, any magnetic field, would attract metal. The problem was that the path which the shards would take going out of the body were seldom the same as the path taken going in.

From the side of his vision McCoy saw Nurse Chapel motion to the other nurses in attendance. She knew as well as he did that the moment he flipped the switch they needed to be ready to handle anything. The probability that they would rupture something was high. But so was the probability that it would unless they did. It was damned if you do and damned if you don't.

_**One and a half hours ago**_

The most logical step would be to split up. They could not hope to cover enough ground to search for the jamming device. But with the injuries they had sustained, it was highly unfavorable. There was strength in numbers. Even the weak could hope to overpower the strong with enough bodies and subterfuge. But time was not on their side. Every minute, every second that they were unable to make contact with the Enterprise meant that Kirk was that much closer to death's door. It also meant that they were vulnerable to attack.

Spock knew the decision that had to be made. It wasn't so different from the various simulations they had the cadets regularly undergo during their training in the Academy. But he also knew that Kirk would not take it sitting down. He made his way to where he was propped against the side of the wall and in as low a tone as he could manage, said, "You need to stay here."

Kirk's brows furrowed. Thankfully when he did speak it was with the same low tones that Spock had used, albeit haltingly due to the pain lancing through his every word. "What...the hell...do you mean, Spock?"

"Do not lie to me Kirk. You know full well what I mean. As your First Officer, I am obligated to ensure my Captain's safety and survival. And you know as well as I do that you no longer have the stamina to continue without risking irreparable damage to yourself. It is only logical that you stay here to conserve what little you have left and let us instead find the device and disable it."

Kirk's eyes blazed in defiance for a second before he turned away.

Shuffling forward, Kirk took his position directly opposite the entrance to the chamber. Pressing his back against the wall, he pulled out his phaser. Just like the rest of the team, it was set on kill. Sulu took a position beside Kirk, phaser still trained on the Chancellor. With only the briefest of nods, they watched the rest of the team led by Spock head out, leaving them together with their hostage and the young dignitary they had been charged to find .

_**One and a half hours ago, on the Enterprise**_

The reports flooding in by the minute were anything but reassuring. Not a single line of communication could be made between the Enterprise and the away team. Transporter capability could not be reestablished from their position orbiting the planet. And to make matters worse, they could not get a feed from any of the body monitors that might otherwise have told them the physical state of those on the ground.

The only clue they had as to the events unfolding planet-side came from the environmental scanners. The scan indicated biological heat signatures concentrated in a single building in the capitol and in a rough circle around it. Outside of that pool, not a single living soul could be detected within a two-mile radius.

The silence on the bridge was palpable as the alternate science officer intoned the report. Alone, the scan would have been inconclusive. But together with their lack of communications and transporter capabilities this led to only one plausible conclusion: an ambush. Unfortunately, though they could plausibly guess what was happening, they could do nothing. Right?

Chekov clenched his fists. There had to be something. He refused to accept the alternative. He was the youngest navigator of any starship. What good were his smarts if he couldn't use it to help his Captain, his Commander, and his crew mates?

In his mind, he ran through every single number, every single fact that the constant stream of reports were spitting out. His thoughts reached out to the information that was shared to them during the mission briefing. He may not have a Vulcan's eidetic memory but he had faith in his ability to recall details. They hadn't failed him during his days in the Academy and even before then. They would not fail him now.

There, amongst all the disparate pieces of data, he found it. It was slim but unless the team on the ground were somehow able to disable whatever device was issuing the jamming signals this might be their only chance.

If Chekov was right with his math, and he almost always was, the Captain and Commander had to survive for an hour and a half until something that rarely every happened in Junna could give them just the opening they needed in order to disrupt the signals.

Rain.

_**At present**_

Scotty hated it when the ship, his fair lady, was injured. It had to be a crime somewhere in the universe to damage such a beautiful ship. And here he was about to do the equivalent of applying a band-aid to something that ought to be brought to surgery.

Talk about playing with dynamite. This was worse than ejecting the warp core and detonating it like what they did after they sank the Narada. The potential for catastrophe was greater with the course of action that they were about to take. In the former, at least the blast would happen outside of the Enterprise. Here, if things went sour, the resulting blast would not only blow a hole the size of a football field through the hull of the starship but it could potentially crack the housing of the warp core, bathing the entire engineering deck with radiation and irreparably damaging their ability to power the ship. But no matter what misgivings Scotty may have, fact was that they had little choice.

The countdown on his wristwatch indicated he had only thirteen minutes left.


End file.
